


Little Things

by EpiphanyWisps



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Anxiety, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Venom Symbiote (Marvel), Graphic Description, I've got a lot of feelings for these two losers, More tags to be added, No Beta, Other, Panic Attacks, Semi Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Symbiotic Relationship, Vomiting, multi-chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-23 05:27:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18543208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EpiphanyWisps/pseuds/EpiphanyWisps
Summary: Venom was basically a hollow beast before Eddie, in all his emotions and thoughts, unconsciously taught the symbiote how to feel. Only and always together, they feel.





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Alone and selfish, Venom is "I", Venom is "Me".  
> Alone and selfish, Eddie is "I", Eddie is "Me".
> 
> Together and entwined, "they" are "Us, "they" are "We".
> 
> This is important as it holds a deeper meaning to their relationship. Never forget.

Eddie counts his blessings like he counts his heartbeats. It’s probably why he doesn’t realize what’s good in his life until he loses it and the reality of it all is staring him straight in the face. Eddie forgets to count his blessings like he forgets to eat when times get tough and resorts to a case of beer instead of something more self-sustaining. He lives his life rather carelessly, and though he’s had some really great ups he’s had his downs that literally had him at rock bottom.

Well, this time he won’t make the mistake of taking what he’s got for granted. He knows he’s stupid when it comes to making the best decisions sometimes and he doesn’t always do what others consider right, but that’s something he’s come to terms with. He’s different now, changed in a way he can’t really explain with words he feels too limited with. He’s alone without Anne, and yet he’s not. He’s complete now, if that makes any sense at all. Sometimes he doesn’t even understand it himself. But he can feel it.

Those nights when he’d drown his worries away with liquor are long gone now that he has to take in more nutrients just to keep his body going when he’s stationary. That and, well, the other he now shares his body with doesn’t like it much, doesn’t care for the taste or the way it alters Eddie’s state of mind. So he stops wasting his money on it and switches to another source of empty calories: chocolate. The symbiote inside him really seems to enjoy it, and honestly Eddie doesn’t complain because he enjoys it too.

They’ve got this weird push and pull relationship that again, Eddie doesn’t have the right words to explain. Even though the symbiote had started letting Eddie call it a parasite as long as they were alone and Eddie made it clear good feelings were behind it, Eddie didn’t really like calling it that anymore. Maybe at first it might have been true. Maybe, just a little. But with the symbiote’s constant chatter in his head Eddie knows now that it was different, had been from the start. They were hungry, starving, and Eddie was too caught up with trying to adjust to this new situation that he didn’t take the time to just _listen_. Eddie feels something like relief and happiness after realizing that, through the entire process of him being hard-headed and a total mess the symbiote crawling around his organs only took from him when they absolutely had to. Because they were starving. Because Eddie wouldn’t man up and just _eat_ when he was told to. He’s apologized more than once for his ignorance, even though the symbiote constantly reminds him that words aren’t necessary when it can feel those emotions from within.

Humans are ignorant, and Eddie is the top of his class in that. It doesn’t make him any less willing to make things right though, especially when the one he’s wrong is…probably going to be with him until the day he dies.  That thought alone sends his brain into overdrive. He’s content now, with the way things are. He’s content without Anne beside him and content without her in his bed. He’s content with living day to day doing a little or a lot in life, without anyone beside him. It scares him sometimes honestly, because he’s so content. He’s got someone to talk to and someone who, whether the other party grumbles about it or not at times, makes sure that he’s taken care of. It makes Eddie comfortable in his own skin and safe in some odd way he didn’t know he needed. It doesn’t matter to Eddie that the someone who makes him feel this whole isn’t even human, and never was to begin with. It should, probably, but it doesn’t.

 **“Human teeth require daily care. You should brush your teeth before you do that, Eddie.”**  The symbiote says it one night after Eddie’s already comfy on the couch and dozing off. Eddie feels a sarcastic remark tingling the tip of his tongue, but he knows better than to test the patience of the symbiote when it can simply take control and move his body for him.

He instead huffs out in amusement at the situation, that a sentient being with thousands of years’ worth of alien wisdom is telling him to brush his teeth like a parent chiding a child. “I could skip a day or two if you didn’t have such an appetite for chocolate, you know.” He states simply instead, already up and dragging his feet across the floor as he makes his way to the bathroom. The toothpaste tastes strangely good tonight. Probably because the symbiote enjoys it more than Eddie does.

The symbiote inside him hums deep in his mind, mimicking Eddie’s amusement. **“Because you prefer it to human heads. If you would rather not brush your teeth we can-”**

“No!” Eddie nearly shouts through a mouthful of foaming paste. “I’m brushing them!”

Afterwards, when Eddie’s teeth are cleaned of a day’s worth of binging on food and chocolate, he lets himself back down onto the couch and tries once again to get comfortable. He can feel the symbiote spreading itself over his insides and stretching through his ribcage like a cat readying for a nap. It makes Eddie squirm sometimes. Not because he knows what the symbiote is doing, but because he’s _aware_ of it. Just when had he gone from not ever knowing a thing unless it talked to him to feeling every little move it made inside him? That was…different. Still wasn’t painful though, even when the symbiote got restless.

Soon though, as Eddie’s eyes became heavy and he’s done watching useless tv and ready to sleep for the night, he feels a shiver run through him. Stupid idea not to grab a blanket from the bedroom when he knew damn well he was probably going to fall asleep on the couch again after such a big dinner. It’s close to summer and nowhere near freezing inside his apartment. It’s cold enough though that without moving for so long his body starts to get a chill. He tries for a good twenty minutes to get himself to sleep without having to get up and get a blanket to cover himself with, hoping that once he’s asleep it won’t matter. It doesn’t work though. He starts unconsciously moving his legs and curling into himself more for some kind of warmth.

“Damn it…” He really doesn’t want to have to get up again.

**“What is wrong?”**

Eddie rolls his eyes, more at annoyance at himself than anything. He knows he’s going to have to get up now. “I’m cold. Now I gotta’ get up again, so there’s that.” He excludes the whole blanket bit because this isn’t the first time he’s had to get up and go get it. He’s more agitated he hasn’t just brought the damn thing out and kept it on the sofa by now.

The second his limbs twitch to move and pull him into a sitting position the symbiote stops him, from the inside, keeping him in place. **“Stay.”**

“…Why?” Eddie’s confused and not given an explanation, but after a few moments of silence he can _feel_ the answer to his question. The symbiote spreads itself and branches out, pulling from inside and pushing out to cover Eddie’s body with its own. It’s got him feeling warmer already. It’s a bit odd though, because Eddie wriggles inside the black mass of ghosting tendrils swimming over his body, feels the body of the symbiote tighten like a tiny spasm in response and as this is a first Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it. It almost felt like a hug.

“Okay…that…works, I guess.”

**“We are warm now. Isn’t this what you wanted?”**

This feels strangely intimate though, and Eddie feels a little awkward having his body smothered by the same alien being that gave him no warning before ramming a mile-long tongue down his throat before, he thinks, albeit a little too loudly in his head.

**“This is different. This is necessity, not pleasure.”**

At which point Eddie thinks he’s not going to sleep anytime soon because, what? “What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

**“It means I’m merely trying to regulate our body heat, Eddie.”**

Well. “Duh. That’s not what I meant, though.” He’s a bit exasperated and he knows it shows in his voice. And there’s this part of him writhing in his gut in anxiety at his own question, but: “What do you mean, ‘not for pleasure’?” Because it’s like opening a can of worms and Eddie doesn’t think he’s quite ready for that yet. It takes his mind back to the completely unnecessary make out session in the woods. The one where, for a hot moment Eddie thought the symbiote had returned in some random body out of anger just to bite _his_ head off. The one where Eddie had never felt so helpless in his entire life being hoisted up to his feet by an alien being with a mouth so full of sharp teeth and a nasty habit of biting heads off. The one where the symbiote could have touched him instead and moved from Anne’s body to his own but instead chose a different route. The one where Eddie can still remember how it felt to feel full, choked and breathless but euphoric and eager and so, so confused because _w h y_?

**“Pleasure feels good for us, but you are cold and tired and should sleep. It is not the proper time to indulge in pleasure. That is why.”**

Eddie wonders if it’s the symbiote’s fault for not reading between the lines, or his own fault for not being more direct. He’s both curious and embarrassed because he really wants to know what the hell it’s talking about and really wishes they’d talked about that kiss at an earlier time because now it just feels awkward. Eddie’s fingers twitch curled up near his face, and the symbiote spreads himself to encase those as well.

Eddie has to release a shuddering breath just to keep from drowning, suddenly all too curious now. “When…do you feel pleasure?” He knows well that he’s stepping into territory he might regret later. Especially since the symbiote doesn’t seem to have the same dignity, if at all, that humans shame themselves with.

**“When you do, Eddie.”**

Eddie swallows hard at that, his throat suddenly dry. “…When I do? Don’t you have your own emotions and…things you feel?”

 **“Not really. Things such as emotion are very foreign to my kind.”** A long pause makes Eddie want to swallow again, this time out of nervousness. **“I learned it from you. When _you_ feel, _we_ feel.”**

Rewind to the moments months after Eddie had assumed the symbiote dead and he was starting to try and regain aspects of his life back, when it was late at night or early in the morning and he was laying on this very couch like he is now. Only during those times he’d be indulging in a basic human need he could barely control.

The symbiote raises enough of its mass to form the familiar form Eddie remembers from his first encounter face to face with it. The black mass of tendrils, teeth, and eyes all seem to smile down at him and Eddie’s throat feels suddenly too tight at the possibility that the symbiote could have been alive and aware in those moments he lay here jerking to whatever thoughts he had in his head at the time.

“…Oh…” Is all he can force out, his voice sounding high and strained. So, he probably unknowingly jerked off with an alien being in his body, and said alien being probably liked it. What the hell did any of that mean? Somehow Eddie thinks the symbiote is implying they wanted more. Not now, maybe, but definitely later. And…that was kind of new territory. New, confusing territory.

He can’t stop staring at the form thriving in front of face, hovering and silent and just watching in a way that sends a shiver up Eddie’s spine. It was much easier to know what they wanted when they were huddled inside Eddie’s bones, sending him chemical signals he knew better now than to ignore. But here, like this, staring it right in the face, Eddie’s mind drew an instant blank. All he could do was, well, stare back and admire the symbiote for what it was in all its hideous glory. Strangely, Eddie felt a lot more at ease following the symbiote as it moved fluidly from one side of him to the other. It didn’t scare Eddie, felt nothing like their first meeting. If Eddie was being honest with himself, he even felt a little attached to it. But...

**“We feel…conflicted. What are you thinking?”**

Eddie curses under his breath, not realizing he was broadcasting his emotions so…loudly. His own emotions that apparently the symbiote can feel. He’s grateful though that it doesn’t just root around in his mind 24/7 to get the answers, instead choosing to ask Eddie and allowing him that sense of privacy. “N-nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just tired.” In hindsight, probably not the best answer.

**“We were tired. Now, we feel conflicted. Why?”**

“I’m just…confused.”

The symbiote pushes itself closer to the side of Eddie’s face after a moment of thought, head cocked in question and features making it look far from innocent. **“Were you wanting pleasure instead?”**

Something about watching those teeth move as it speaks and seeing that tongue glide over the back of them has Eddie’s stomach in knots. The memory of ‘ _Well why didn’t you just say’_ runs through his mind quicker than his reflexes of shouting “No!”

“I’m okay, I just…uh, this is new for me?” He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to say anymore, really. “You being a blanket, that is.”

The symbiote backs away, lowers its head back and clicks its teeth. **“You don’t seem to mind.”**

Eddie feels that spasm again, rolling over his body and constricting in a way that really does feel like a hug. “I don’t. It feels…kinda’ nice actually.” And it does. He’s perfectly warm, but not so much so that it’s uncomfortable.  

**“Good. Sleep then, you need to rest.”**

The mass of teeth and eyes sink back into the tendrils encasing Eddie’s body, sinks even lower to keep itself attached to Eddie’s core. And Eddie feels content like this, as odd as it may look to any outsider looking in. The symbiote is snuggled along his ribcage and wrapped over his body and again Eddie is left with this strange feeling of being whole. He closes his eyes, willing himself back to the edge of slumber with the gentle nudging of ‘ ** _sleep, Eddie_** ’ vibrating at the back of his mind.  He still has questions, more of them aimed at himself now than the symbiote, but he finds his way to sleep nonetheless. It’s peaceful too, when he sleeps now. It’s peaceful in a way he doesn’t remember being for a long time. With Anne, maybe. But that feels so long ago now. Now he sleeps without restraint and without worry. Now he sleeps feeling comfortable and completely at peace. On this night, he may even feel more relaxed than he usually does.

He doesn’t dream, hasn’t for months. And that is another reason he feels at peace. While his head is cluttered with thoughts and voices during the day it’s silent and peaceful at night. For that, Eddie is grateful.


	2. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Venom's out here trying to live its best life and Eddie can't stop being a hot mess.

The next morning when Eddie wakes up he’s still clothed in a mess of symbiote. He blinks a few times, confused in his sleepy haze as to why he feels constricted, trying to wake up and register that it’s morning and he needs to get the day started. It’s only after he yawns does the symbiote loosen its hold on his body, allowing him to stretch more properly within it. The symbiote releases his arms, and it’s then Eddie realizes the symbiote has snaked its way up farther sometime in the night, thicker tendrils flowing around his neck and over his cheeks like some feline form of stretching. Before he can even say anything the symbiote’s head reappears from its body to greet him, mouth wide and teeth glimmering in the morning light peeking through the blinds.

And gets right to the point. **“We are hungry.”**

Eddie would laugh if he wasn’t still trying to wake up. He yawns instead with his arms spread out as best he can, feeling the symbiote slowly release complete hold of his body and sink back into its favorite spot within his ribs. Eddie sighs, breathing in and looking at the light shining through into his apartment through another yawn. “Well good morning to you, too.”

 **“Breakfast is important.”** The most important meal of the day, they say. Eddie’s still convinced the symbiote learned that from watching too much tv while he sleeps.

“Of course.” Because regardless, it really is now. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks in between are important now. It’s only when Eddie can’t afford to eat so much that he lets the symbiote take over long enough to feed himself. Eddie isn’t fond of that cannibalistic part of his life, but he’s willing to let it happen if it means they won’t go hungry. Because they need the fuel to keep their health. And if the symbiote is hungry it will start to graze on Eddie’s organs, and Eddie really doesn’t like it when that happens. So yeah, a few heads here and there is a fine price to pay to not get eaten alive only to be restored again once they recoup their energy.

Still groggy, Eddie sits up on the couch and rubs the sleep from his eyes. “What time is it?” He wonders aloud, and not to the symbiote, but the symbiote answers anyway.

**“7:14AM. You slept for six hours and twenty-seven minutes.”**

Eddie still feels tired, probably from all the late nights looking up information to write about that it’s starting to catch up with him. He’d much rather go back to bed and sleep it off before he has to do it all over again, but he’s got a hungry symbiote pining for food and knows damn well it won’t stop until he eats something.

He gets up and stretches again, scratching at his side and stumbling into the kitchen. He would have liked a cup of coffee or two before having to do anything else, but again it’s the push and pull of their relationship that means he’s got more prevalent priorities to cater to now. He can’t be selfish anymore. But, he doesn’t mind. He actually likes feeling the symbiote squirming restlessly inside him, eager for that first meal of the day.

It’s a good thing Eddie has a habit of filling the coffee pot the night before with grinds and water. Once breakfast is started all he’ll have to do is turn it on and wait. Bless having his new schedule of pulling all-nighters focusing on his new career of journalism.

“Any preferences there, buddy?” Because that’s another thing that’s changed in him. He cooks now. Honest to God, gathering ingredients and throws them together _cooks_. The symbiote has a palate of its own and has no trouble voicing what it wants. Thankfully, it allows Eddie the options for more food that’s actually cooked and not raw and wriggling before he puts it in his mouth.

 **“Pancakes,”** Eddie hears, like the beginning of a thought before a brief pause. **“With chocolate chips.”**

And Eddie does laugh at that. It seems like such a childish request that Eddie can’t help it. “Alright, you got it.”

Their meals don’t always contain chocolate, despite the symbiote’s hunger for it. Eddie knows that if the symbiote wanted to be selfish his breakfast would be a lot harder to swallow and probably even harder to keep down so early in the morning. He’d have a plate of raw seafood combined with a plate of whatever Eddie’s body needed to consume himself, and some generous helping of chocolate for dessert. Even more selfish would have Eddie out on the streets and tasting residual passings of human organs. He shivers at the thought and thanks his lucky stars their relationship isn’t detrimental like that.

Luckily for Eddie, they’re past their early stages of bumping heads and stumbling around in one body trying to get used to each other. They’re a lot better at thriving as a single entity versus two halves of a whole battling for dominance in one body.  

Eddie puts everything he needs into a mixing bowl and starts the task of making their breakfast, grabbing a bag of chocolate chips from the cupboard. The symbiote stems to the surface of his arm while he’s mixing the chocolate chips into the batter. Eddie knows it well enough now that he doesn’t feel surprised to see the better formed mass of teeth and eyes drift closer to the bag of chocolate chips he’s got set off to the side. He’s put more than half the bag into the batter so there isn’t much left, but nothing goes to waste these days.

He smiles, momentarily stopping his mixing to reach into the bag and pull out a small handful of them. The symbiote watches what he does intently, its teeth pulling apart to let its tongue snake out.

Eddie wonders curiously if it’s going to lap them from his palm like an animal might as he holds the tiny morsels of chocolate, open and waiting. It doesn’t though, and as Eddie waits for something to happen the chocolate starts to slowly melt in his hand. It’s only enough that he can feel the goo of it, and not so much that it’s pooling.

The symbiote hovers near Eddie’s hand, mouth open and eyes staring at the chocolate. Eddie holds his breath, wondering if it’s even possible with all those teeth to nibble on something so small when it’s clearly built to eat much larger things. Is something like that even possible with such an enormous and obnoxiously built mouth?

A few moments of silence pass them by with the symbiote seeming to carefully study what Eddie has in his hand and Eddie anxiously waiting to see what might happen. Instead of trying to eat any of it, the symbiote pulls its tongue back and lowers itself to just under Eddie’s hand, nudges his hand upward with the top of its head and pushes the hand closer to Eddie. **“Eat.”**

That settles the question, then. But honestly, Eddie shouldn’t feel as hot under the collar as he currently does, feeling some kind of emotion vibrating in his chest at the small gesture. He knows the symbiote meant nothing more than what it’s already stated, and maybe it was the simple touch that Eddie’s just not used to. Eddie doesn’t know. It’s got him feeling some type of way though and just like the night previous the newness of it makes him feel…strange. Oddly affectionate.

Eddie tries not to think about it, because now the symbiote is staring at _him_ , and does as he’d told a little to eagerly out of some sudden rush of panic. He doesn’t even realize he’s not only dropped a few melted morsels on the floor, but has also squeezed the melting chocolate in his hand and smeared it over the side of his mouth as he practically inhales it. He doesn’t even remember tasting any of it. He only sees those opalescent eyes and that mouth full of pincer like teeth that make it look like it’s always grinning.

But the symbiote, in turn to Eddie’s actions, gains an expression similar to distain and the sight of it catches Eddie off guard once again. “ **Eddie, you’re making a mess.”**

Eddie looks down at the fallen chocolate that’s now spotting his floor and has to sigh, because really? Since when had he become so jumpy in his own skin? It’s not like the symbiote was trying to rattle him intentionally. It’s a basic beast with basic needs and basic ways of going about them. Eddie was the one overreacting and overthinking with all his basic human repulses to a very not so basic situation his life has become. Right? So why then, was his heart beating a little harder in his chest? It definitely wasn’t fear.

He stares down at the chocolate staring back up at him in a mock sense of irony. Because of course he’s made a mess. If his life wasn’t full of them he wouldn’t recognize it as his own. He’s about to fix the situation and get back to making breakfast, back to acting like cooking for himself and the alien being inside his skin was a normal thing to do. He’s about to forget how badly he’s been reacting to simple gestures and simple touches and chalk it up to his affection starved mind after losing Anne. He really is. Only as he reaches for a washcloth from the sink and wets it he thinks maybe that won’t ever be possible again.

Things can’t and won’t ever be the same sense of ‘normal’ again. He’s living a completely different life from anyone else on the planet now. The symbiote reminds him of this when Eddie feels something coarse and slick push with a little too much pressure over the mess of his chocolate covered hand. He wasn’t even aware he still held it out.

Eddie whips his head back so quick he thinks he hears something pop. There, as innocent or otherwise the symbiote can be, it takes patience in lapping the chocolate from Eddie’s hand. His palm, his fingers, the spaces between his fingers, they all get cleaned. And oh there goes Eddie’s stomach again tying itself in knots. It’s an involuntary action, one he doesn’t even realize is happening until he finds himself very immensely immersed in how close those teeth are to his fingers and yet not a single one so much as grazes his skin. He knows he should probably feel freaked out by what’s happening, knows it would be the more proper way for any human to react. He knows how easy it would be for the symbiote to just _bite down_ and there goes Eddie’s hand like some new chocolate coated snack.

Thing is…he knows it won’t, knows it even before his hand is completely clean and glistening with whatever weird alien substance coats the inside of the symbiote’s mouth. Eddie still has this weird sensation running through his bones that keeps any ‘normal’ reactions at bay. It feels weirder to him than his own life now, this new feeling forming inside. Weird because it’s so foreign. So alien. And it isn’t coming from the symbiote itself. It’s something completely Eddie.

He doesn’t let himself second guess himself when he reaches out with his now clean hand. He’s still clutching the washcloth in the other, gripping it tighter just to relieve some of the tension. The symbiote doesn’t flinch when Eddie’s fingers cautiously touch the side of its head. It does watch him though, seeming to study his face while Eddie wonders at the strange feel of whatever biomechanics it’s made of. And it’s not like Eddie hasn’t felt the body of it before. Hell, it’s attached to him constantly. But here, with his fingers dipping in and around various tendrils of blackened alien mass he can’t help but feel like it’s different.

He’s never actively reached out to grab at the symbiote, so he isn’t prepared for how strange it is to feel a vibrant pulse running through it. _Alive_ , he thinks, and instantly feels dumb for ever thinking it would be anything but.

His thoughts are jarred and his hand slips, his other instantly dropping the washcloth into the sink when the symbiote moves closer. It creeps up his arm like it’s riding his bloodstream, settling at his chest and around his shoulders, hovering its head right in front of Eddie’s face. In which case Eddie forgets to breathe, because had he done something the symbiote didn’t like?

That tongue slips out again between those teeth, slides up closely to Eddie’s face. And Eddie’s trembling, his head tilted back at the closeness and not knowing what in the hell he’s in for until the chocolate around his mouth is whisked away. He stands there, completely in shock and not knowing what to expect next. He watches with wide eyes as the symbiote wipes its tongue over those teeth, the equivalent maybe of someone smacking their lips after a good meal. Then it ghosts down, back into Eddie’s body with a satisfied hum. Eddie is left standing there not knowing what the hell just happened.

That is, until the symbiote gently reminds him of what he should be doing. **“Food, Eddie.”**

And all he can say is: “…Right.”

 

Later, while he’s cramming the fourth chocolate loaded pancake into his mouth, he tries hard not to think about how their weird push and pull relationship is starting to evolve. Well, overthinking the thing. Because he does a lot of that lately when it concerns the symbiote.

It hasn’t been very long since Eddie first realized he hadn’t lost that other part of himself to the fire blast that night. It’s not even long since he reunited with Anne to discuss future plans for their lives as individuals after all that had happened. But something has definitely changed between himself and the symbiote. He doesn’t know what, exactly. That’s still a mystery to him. But it’s definitely different now.

They’re much more domestic now, which is such an odd concept. The symbiote wisps out with a single large tendril and scoots the syrup closer to where Eddie can reach, as if to cement his train of thought.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, like it’s a completely normal thing.

**“You are welcome.”**

Yeah, domestic is a good word for it. Absent mindedly he stuffs his mouth full with more of the savory pancakes. Eddie feels kind of bad that he’s somehow convinced this omniscient being to stay on Earth and live such a mundane way of life when there’s hardly anything extravagant going on. It must feel so dull comparatively, and yet the symbiote never makes a notion of complaint. How odd it must feel.

A moment later a steaming cup of coffee is placed beside him on the table, close to where his arm is resting. It jars Eddie from his thoughts, has him swallowing the remainder of pancake in his mouth a little too hard at his own sudden confusion. Looking around, his apartment still looks empty enough that he’s convinced no one’s somehow slipped though while he was lost in his thoughts, still silent around him aside from himself and the symbiote.

**“You forgot to make your coffee.”**

It takes a moment to register, but when it does it hits hard. And there it is again, this weird emotion bubbling up in his chest he doesn’t have a name for. He didn’t even consider the symbiote would think of something like this, doesn’t even remember how and when it turned the coffee pot on let alone pour a cup of it. Eddie had been a bit flustered after the whole chocolate chip incident that he’d finished breakfast in a bit of a rush. He completely forgot about making his coffee. And here the symbiote had taken care of that for him, just like Eddie takes care to keep both of them good and fed now. Well, most of the time.

He can’t help his hum of pleasure as he takes his first sip of coffee. It’s just what he needed to clear his thoughts. “You’re an _angel_ ,” He tells the symbiote, taking another sip and reveling in the taste.

**“Not quite, but I understand the sentiment.”**


	3. Dreaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello and welcome to ‘that escalated quickly’. I promise more fluff in future chapters, this just had to be addressed.
> 
> Also, this chapter gets kinda dark so I'm adding a few new tags in hopes no one gets triggered.

Eddie doesn’t remember having dreams since the symbiote starting wearing him as a host. For a while it was as if the symbiote itself kept Eddie’s mind at ease and free to be that silent. It had been good. Soon though, as _they_ progress, so do the complications.

No, Eddie doesn’t have dreams anymore. He hasn’t in a long time. Eddie has _nightmares_.

It starts, probably, because of his newly attained anxiety. It circles the complexity of their relationship like a rose wrapped in a rattlesnake’s skin. These days Eddie waits with the sun for something new to happen ‘they’ haven’t experienced yet. A few blunt words here that sound a little too friendly or a little too awkward. A touch here and a squeeze there just to prove a point or make the symbiote’s presence felt when Eddie is a little worse for wear.

Eddie’s mind races with this strangled sense of affection flaring out in his chest that feels as though its reaching out, and when the symbiote gets too cozy inside his skin it makes him nervous for reasons he has no name to.

He’s anxious and waiting because his mind pays too much attention to every little detail in how they interact now. He knows damn well by now that this symbiote he’s stuck with doesn’t care to lie and definitely doesn’t beat around the bush as far as conversation is concerned. Eddie’s relieved with at least knowing that much.

But, within these truths and within that blunt as hell attitude stands a much more forward and primal territory that Eddie doesn’t know if he’s quite ready for. He thought he felt a glimpse once, after he’d taken an afternoon nap, waking up to an intense hunger in the pit of his stomach and a very awkward boner demanding his attention. He’d dealt with the second issue first after asking for a few moments to himself and having to give a too lengthy speech about humans and their need for privacy. He blames himself for the arousal part of that whole situation--because excuse him for being human. It’s also mostly why he gave in to the symbiote’s request of a live lunch afterward.

The situation wouldn’t have made him feel so strange if he didn’t still feel the remnants of how his own arousal and the symbiote’s appetite for food seemed to mix that day and make him feel so unwound. He’d been a little too quick and a little too rough with himself in those few moments of alone time afterward, and later the symbiote had gone off a little too eagerly with its hunt and killed a little too vigorously. They were both affected that day, clearly.

Eddie tries not to think about it. Still, his body remembers the sensations and his mind will never forget the temptations. And on occasion, he wakes up with his skin tingling and a whispering in the back of mind he can’t hear clearly.

Eddie doesn’t know what and when it will happen next, and it’s got him a little more nervous than he’d likely admit. It feels unavoidable now somehow. Where is this going to lead, Eddie wonders. Where is it _supposed_ to go?

Eddie wakes up and he waits like he’s going to grab the answer right out of thin air. Eddie lays himself down to sleep and he waits like the answer will come to him in his sleep while his mind isn’t too busy with the uncertainty of it all.

That anxiety starts to burn brighter as the days pass. A part of him starts to want out of this deal because it can be a bit much to swallow at times. He knows the other part of himself though, the part of his conscious that knows better, would feel dead if that ever actually happened. That’s what makes it so hard.

He can’t run now. They’re tied together from somewhere deep inside and it feels so much more than what they look like from the outside that separating them would probably make him wish for death if it didn’t actually kill him first. It feels deeper than the first time they connected, and deeper than the last time they were ripped apart. They feel like one unit in Eddie’s mind, surviving in one body but with two entities.

But they’re different. Very different. Which is why Eddie waits. The symbiote is very forward and unpredictable, having no emotions of its own to stem its actions from.

Eddie doesn’t know exactly what he’s waiting for, but he knows he’s waiting for it. Eddie wakes up and he waits. Eddie lays himself down to sleep and he waits. Eddie eats and Eddie waits. He’s always waiting.

 

Time goes on, and Eddie starts to struggle with his day to day life. It’s small, at first. Nothing really happens between the two of them beside their usual banter. Eddie starts staying up late on most nights trying to put his notes together into an article or two he can be proud of and tries not to think about the fact that he’s still _waiting_. His deadlines aren’t too bad, but the research can be time consuming.

Problem is, the symbiote inside him has a hunger rivaling the entire human race at times and Eddie doesn’t work fast enough to supply its needs. Or at least that’s how Eddie feels when his wallet is lighter than normal and the symbiote is repeating **‘food, Eddie’** until he can’t take it. He knows well what it feels like in his body when the symbiote gets too hungry, when the stomach cramps start and he feels so much pain and nausea it makes him feel faint. He knows better than to ignore the signs, but sometimes he just can’t afford it. And those days are the hardest. The symbiote gets restless those days, sometimes even nibbles inside on Eddie’s organs until he gives in and walks out to _find_ dinner.

Which brings Eddie’s mind to another newfound anxiety. Without Riot as a threat, without Carlton Drake trying to enslave and exploit whoever and whatever he can to justify his means, neither Eddie nor the symbiote carry a goal. Like a pair of parasitic twins thriving and feeding for and from each other they live to survive and nothing much else these days.

Eddie wakes up, goes through a morning routine which he’s half used to and half still trying to get used to. He works, he eats, and he sleeps. He doesn’t go out from his apartment unless it’s related to his job or out of necessity for food. Eddie doesn’t even try to go on dates anymore despite losing Anne, doesn’t see the point with an alien being attached to him.

Sometimes he catches himself slacking on his work when he thinks too much, which does nothing but make him feel lazy in finishing his assignments these days. It can get boring when the story is and there isn’t enough meat on the bones to even exaggerate it into a decent one. Eddie and the symbiote don’t make it a point to go out in search of criminals either like society might think they should with all their strength. There’s no real point unless ‘human’ is on the dinner menu. And quite honestly neither are looking to be a hero.

In short, it’s not very exciting when your biggest decision of the day is what to eat for dinner. They’ve got all this knowledge and all this power now, and for what?

Eddie worries, feels his muscles tense up as the days drag on and the mundane tasks of everyday life continue. The symbiote inside him doesn’t voice any distain for this new life away from the galaxies above, where Eddie is sure carries countless more possibilities for entertainment and food. Eddie knows the other grows tired, though. Tired maybe, of this. Eddie can feel it growing more restless within his breastbone sometimes, especially when tendrils loop around his spine and poke at the vulnerable disks between his vertebra. Eddie always worries. He doesn’t know what could happen, but a niggling in the back of his mind tells him that he must do something before he no longer has a choice.

So, Eddie makes a decision. He gives in a little more, allows the symbiote more control and lets it romp around only the worst parts of the slums where they’re less likely to be in the spotlight for the morning papers. That way they can be just another devil in the darkness and there will be a few less thugs on the street come morning. Nothing much more to see.

Though in doing so, Eddie gets to see the primal side from behind the flesh of the symbiote itself, an essence that’s so barbaric sometimes Eddie feels it leak into his senses. A part of him feels excitement with the likeness of adrenaline, while the other part of him feels…fear? Panic? Disgust? It’s hard to tell through the motions of how human bones break so easily and slide down his throat, almost as if he’s bitten off more than he can swallow, but it goes down just the same without so much as a hiccup.

Eddie eats what he can throughout the day by raiding his kitchen and tries to carry on, but it’s not always enough. The symbiote is restless even when they’re full, filled with a hunger that some days even Eddie’s whole paycheck can’t seem to satiate.

Eddie doesn’t like it, but he tries desperately to be ok with it. He gives in more, asking more for animals than humans and therein finds the reasoning behind the head chomping craze because _brains, brains, brains_. Safe to say the squirrel population takes a nosedive after that. Human brains are better, the symbiote tell him one day, rich with something it craves like an addiction and goes down smooth like a fine bottle of white wine. It’s warm and it’s filling, and so aromatic that it can’t help but follow the scent.

Eddie still tries to reason with it to take less people off the menu. Some days they come to an agreement, while other days Eddie loses control.

Still, it’s _brains, brains, brains_ like a kid who’s discovered ice cream for the first time and won’t let go of the damn cone. And slowly Eddie feels like he’s losing his mind over it.

Eddie falls asleep with a similar chant in his head at night, knowing full well the symbiote will take over and spend the night indulging when he closes his eyes. Because that’s what they seem to do now when Eddie isn’t awake to try and keep what control he has. Eddie eats during the day and the symbiote takes over at night. They didn’t talk about it before it formed into a routine, and Eddie’s too tired to even resist anymore.

Somewhere through all of it Eddie forgets to notice anything else but the ride. He forgets that maybe he should ask what’s going on or wonder why the symbiote hasn’t asked for permission. He forgets that this isn’t normal for them and if it keeps going like this Eddie’s probably going to go insane.

The times Eddie’s body is encased and his senses become secondary become more frequent, expanding into the twilight hours. Eddie doesn’t protest as much as he simply tries to endure, figures there must be a good enough reasoning behind it all.

On the _days_ when Eddie says yes like it’s his choice, he has to close his eyes so he doesn’t have to remember the faces, doesn’t have to worry about seeing them in his dreams. The sound of heavy breathing and the screams that echo into the night, the _crunching_ ; all the sounds that, despite his best efforts, follow him anyway to bed. His mind becomes a damp place without him realizing it, and before he knows it, he can’t turn back. Blood is all he sees, all he can taste bubbling in the back of his throat. It’s unsettlingly warm and thick like paste.

On those _nights_ where the symbiote and Eddie alike still don’t communicate for permission and agreement, Eddie dreams of walking. Those dreams are more pleasant to him than the ones his more eventful days give him. Nights are good because it’s where he doesn’t have to feel the savagery of the hunt.

But, the struggle bleeds further into the fine line of things. Eddie is too anxious now and too tired to keep a steady flow of work on his plate. He knows how empty his wallet is, how bare his fridge is, and just knows he doesn’t have a choice anymore because the symbiote is **hungry, Eddie,** _always_ hungry. Eddie worries that he won’t be able to support the symbiote’s appetite forever with his limited means. He barely has enough resources to feed himself. So he lays down, sometimes in his bed and sometimes on the couch, and lets himself be carried away.

He walks in those dreams. He walks and the symbiote hunts. Gravel and grass are under his feet and all of his senses are amplified. Those dreams aren’t bad, no. It doesn’t matter that his hands are warm and his mouth is wet and dripping. It doesn’t even matter that whatever is in his mouth is chewy and running all down his chin in clumps. Because, well, the crunching feels a lot more like chips and the screams don’t echo until morning. Eddie can live with that.

But all of these days that started with anxiety have dragged on into weeks of tireless game, and in turn gone to months without much change. The symbiote gets more restless as the sun rises and falls, feels more hunger than before this began. And that’s where Eddie worries he’s gone too far with giving in.

It’s becoming a problem just trying to survive, and Eddie doesn’t know to fix it. It starts to make Eddie restless too. There’s nothing more, he feels, he can do besides what’s already been done. They’re together, connected. But, for what purpose? Eddie’s starting to feel a little like he’s drowning slowly with only a straw to provide the oxygen from how far down he feels himself sinking.

And maybe all of this is just because the symbiote’s gotten as content as he has that things have changed so drastically. He’s unsure. Eddie never asks the questions he’s got rolling around in his brain and the symbiote never pries into his mind until Eddie is ready to voice them. Their connection goes deeper than flesh alone, and you would think it makes for easier conversation between them. Yet still Eddie hesitates, and hates himself for it.

The nights where the symbiote feels sated enough to keep them both indoors it spends most of its time watching useless ads on the television in between medical dramas while Eddie tries to either sleep or rebuild his career and his dwindling funds. It’s always a welcomed break from their usual trollop. The symbiote has many questions on those nights, which are mostly redundant and mostly comical. Eddie has come to treasure those nights. Because the symbiote is so ignorant, and so unaware.

When Eddie elects to work instead of sleeping he tries hard to concentrate while also trying hard not to feel too comfortable. It’s not always this carefree anymore, especially when he can’t afford to stock the pantry and they’re hungry again. Things have gone so far out of control at this point that Eddie forgets when it started. When did this hunger get so deep that Eddie doesn’t even realize they need food until the symbiote’s already taken over?

Eddie would call Anne to check in if he was a braver man, maybe even to calm his nerves, but he’s still afraid she’ll find out the symbiote’s never really left. He doesn’t know why he’s afraid of her knowing either, which baffles him. Maybe it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the shame.

Once he nearly called Dan with the hope of simple conversation when his nerves over calling Anne got to be too much. He chickens out in the end, not wanting to bring anyone else into this strange nest they’ve created here. It’s easier that way, in the end.

 

It’s nearing five months of Eddie giving before he worries he can’t maintain anymore. The pull of their relationship is too strong and Eddie’s side of the rope is threatening to snap and send him crashing to the ground. He’s got no more strength to push. The jobs he so looks forward to are coming in less, and it becomes harder to concentrate on the few stories he’s supposed to be working on. He’s barely able to keep up on the rent and utilities alone. He feels less rested and more impulsive like the symbiote; like half of his life is spent eating or worrying about eating, while the other half is spent walking in a trance.

When he dreams…it feels more like reality, in a way. He doesn’t know anymore if he’s really dreaming sometimes or if the symbiote is in control and he’s feeling everything second-hand. The anxiety of it all starts to blossom up his spine.

Life continues. A few days more of that same continuity and Eddie can feel himself start to shut down. He starts to eat a little less for himself and more for the symbiote out of sheer anxiety of what might happen if he doesn’t. He wakes up with the taste of copper still on his tongue some days, and spends thirty minutes trying to brush it out and into the drain before he can even think of eating anything else. Sometimes it doesn’t work and he ends up heaving into the nearest trashcan until he’s forced everything up he’s worked so hard to put in there.

The symbiote hunts and feeds its fire while Eddie gets sick over it and suffers the loss.

Eddie knows the symbiote isn’t stupid, that it knows and understands to some extent what Eddie is feeling even if emotions are still foreign. The symbiote sits back and feels, maybe second-hand like Eddie does when their roles are reversed. It bides its time and learns the more Eddie crumbles.

Just, not fast enough. The nightmares get worse, and Eddie doesn’t know how to fix it anymore than he knows how to fix the hunger he can never seem to gain control of.

 

**“We are fine,”** is what Eddie hears some nights later when he wakes up in a cold sweat and swears he was bleeding out a minute ago from somewhere in his stomach, doesn’t know where or how, but he knows how real it felt and how off his own voice sounds when he tries to answer.

His dream had been dark and uncertain and painted bright with pain. But so, so familiar.

Eddie knows deep in his soul the symbiote would never intentionally harm him. He knows when he dreams of teeth, tastes iron on his lips and feels the sharp little things that rip into his spine he’s dreaming. He knows he thinks too much about what might happen if he can’t provide, of something much darker than the symbiote simply abandoning him and moving on to another host. That doesn’t stop him from dreaming about the possibility though.

“I’m sorry,” He finds himself apologizing even when he doesn’t need to. He knows he won’t get a response, won’t get a question in return, but he never knows what else to say when he wakes up like this. It’s kind of like having the fear of waking up during surgery, not knowing what you might experience or what can go wrong without anyone else but you being aware.

Eddie worries that sometime down the road he’s going to wake up with remains, human or other, all over him and stomach too full with things he’d never choose to put in there himself. And the symbiote will be content and wrapped around him like it usually is these days when he wakes, completely unaware of the mental anguish.

It’s not that the symbiote is a thoughtless being, at least not with Eddie. It’s just ignorant. It doesn’t know what it can’t understand, now can it? So how to explain to a beast so void of feelings how much you’re hurting inside when it doesn’t know what that even feels like? Eddie thinks, well, _must be nice._

 

Eddie spends his days like a moth dances around a flame these days, just waiting. There are moments in between those anxious little thoughts where everything happens and nothing at all. His nightmares stand constant like clockwork even when they don’t hunt and don’t gorge themselves. It isn’t until that rope Eddie’s still clinging to in this tug of war snaps that any change really happens.

He vaguely remembers hearing something about his well-being in the back of his mind one day while he’s sitting at the kitchen table with an empty plate in front of him. He knows the plate is empty because he can see that it is, but he doesn’t recall if he ate anything from it or just brought it out to put something on it to eat. He doesn’t even know how long he’s been sitting there. He’s muttering something about something he doesn’t even remember anymore. He’s tired. So tired. And sleeping doesn’t ever seem to help. Not when the screams are waiting for him.

Eddie’s posture slips, and something wraps around his torso to keep him upright. There’s something around his jaw too, something just slightly warm enough to make him jump back. It takes him a moment of looking at the strange thing to realize it’s just a part of the symbiote reaching out and not something from his nightmarish dreamland. It’s not blood. It’s not a dying animal and it’s not a flailing human in the throes of death. He doesn’t fight it when the touch returns.

Again, the low rumble in the back of his mind flares bright. He doesn’t really understand it, he just knows he can feel it through his skull. Eddie ignores it this time and doesn’t even try to decipher it. Instead, his eyes slide shut. The rumbling echoes again, this time closer to his face and definitely not in his head anymore. Eddie still can’t make out if it’s actual words, but he has a suspicion that it’s a voice talking to him and not some distant sound.

He’s smiling like an idiot and humming like he’s suddenly drunk and oblivious, not understanding why something bumps his forehead a moment later and stays rested there. Eddie thinks he might hear something about **_we don’t feel well_** , and **_should have said something._** Can’t be sure though. His pulse sounds louder inside his ears than anything outside of them.

He groans a little _mm, hello_ while his body’s on auto-pilot just going through the similar motions. He lays a hand over whatever is currently leaning over his forehead, where his fingers grab a fistful of whatever strange thing is there when he loses the strength to keep his hand up. But then the thing _pulls_. Eddie feels it start from the back of his mind, pushing outward and tingling along his skin and eyebrows like sweat. After a while it stops and everything is still again.

This temporary moment of silence in the room leaves Eddie feeling tired again. The symbiote jars him awake with a ripple beneath his skin. **“You’re sick.”**

This time, Eddie understands it. He’s still smiling, but mostly because he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. “We feel fine,” Eddie says back, mimicking the symbiote’s voice. Something in him wants to laugh like he’s just made the greatest joke. “Besides, can’t you just make me better with your alien voodoo?”

The snarky comment is ignored. **“This I cannot fix. You have neglected your body’s needs for food and sleep for far too long. Your mind is shutting down.”**

He’d made himself sick in spirit and tuckered his body far beyond the symbiote’s abilities to mend. Ok. So Eddie had made yet another shitty life choice that ended badly for him, what else is new? He feels like he’s going crazy or already has with how exhausted he feels, and maybe he is.

“Okay…” Eddie rolls his head to the side and feels the symbiote move it back with the same tendril it used to steady his head. “So how ‘m I supposed to fix this?” He realizes now that what’s also in front of him is the symbiote itself, stretched out from his body and staring him straight in the face.

**“Eat. Sleep.”**

He feels too tired to argue and too mentally strained to fight, all his thoughts rushing to touch the symbiote’s consciousness when it’s this close to him. There’s a sense of pressure filling his limbs from toes to fingertips. And just like that Eddie is up and moving, walking back into his bed like it’s where he should have been. He has a lasting worry of not knowing whether he actually ate anything or not on that plate. It’s soon replaced by the overwhelming sense to rest.

His head is a little lighter now that he’s lying down, but his heart is still heavy. Even when the symbiote stretches over his skin and pulls them tighter together Eddie doesn’t react, just lets his body melt into the sensation of the strange embrace. Eddie is nearly asleep when he feels one more tug around him, and a voice that sounds too gentle to be this familiar.

**“I’m sorry, Eddie.”**

 

In the morning that follows, Eddie wonders if the symbiote understands more that his heart’s grown weak with all the live meals and the events leading up to them, because almost all at once they stop. It’s a strange feeling that arises in Eddie when he realizes he’s slept more peacefully throughout the night. And then, a few nights in a row afterward. All without the gnawing of a hungry symbiote in his mind and without those riling nightmares he’d become accustomed to. Eddie wants to ask what’s changed, doesn’t remember much aside from the feeling of the constant sleepwalking toward the end of it. He wants to know if the other really is becoming more aware of emotions, because it’s almost too good to be true.

Eddie decides in the end that he needs to ask, because of all things that’s happened, this is the strangest. He starts to worry again about food, thinking that must be the issue somehow. Something feels wrong, but Eddie can’t tell what.

 

He’s sitting on the couch with his belly full of honest human food and his mind in question when Eddie decides to open the conversation. The symbiote hasn’t said much of anything today as per usual since the change, not even a whisper of hunger. Come to think of it, he hasn’t felt that hunger in a while. It doesn’t feel right.

“Hey, uhm…Venom?” He’s still not sure about using the name, knowing it feels like a name that’s more connected with the both of them as a whole now than the symbiote itself. Eddie doesn’t know what else to call it for right now, though. “Can I ask you a question?”

Something stirs from inside and somehow it makes Eddie dread the conversation they’re about to have.

**“Of course, Eddie.”** They certainly don’t sound weak from malnutrition, which makes Eddie feel a little bit better.

“I uh…are you feeling alright?”

**“We feel fine.”**

Eddie flinches at that choice of words for some reason. Why does it feel like déjà vu? Never mind the matter of fact tone. He wants the other to talk about itself without blatant facts, and not them as a whole. Still, it kind of does answer the question. “That’s not what I meant, buddy.” His features knit together. He taps his chest with his open palm, trying to catch the symbiote’s attention. “Why don’t you come out for a bit instead of all balled up in my insides so I can talk to you, man to man?”

**“Not a man, Eddie: Klyntar.”** The symbiote states, again matter of fact. Then, **“It expends energy we cannot afford.”**

Eddie’s not sure if he heard right. “A kli—a _what_?”

**“My race.”**

Another answer to a question he didn’t know he had, but ok. “Ok, and I get that.” And he does. “But, why are you not eating like you used to? Did I…somehow get you sick, too?”

**“No.”**

Eddie feels helpless. “Venom. Talk to me. What’s gotten into you? First you can’t eat enough and now you don’t want to eat at all?”

The symbiote goes silent at that, and it makes Eddie’s thoughts go in circles. “…Venom?” Eddie’s fidgeting with his own fingers, picking at the dirt underneath his fingernails.

And then…

**“…Never meant to hurt, Eddie.”**

And then suddenly everything makes a little more sense. Action-wise that is. _Reaction_ is another thing, because it involves something a little more human than Eddie’s given it credit for.

**“I was selfish, didn’t see you.”**

Eddie feels guilty, too. He feels like, in a way, he’s let this mess get to where it is by his overthinking and lack of communication. Ok, so maybe they aren’t yet one hundred percent walking in stride in this one body yet. Clearly there’s much more to this insane ride than he originally thought. One more step in the right direction now, at least.

Wait. Selfish? Isn’t that an emotion? Technically?

“Selfish?”

**“Yes. We were ignorant. Never again. It hurts Eddie. It hurts _us_.”**

Eddie feels something tense in his chest as though he feels it the moment the symbiote says it. But it’s different, distant, almost as if it’s something he isn’t feeling first-hand. And that’s a first.

This time the symbiote does materialize before him. It looks the same as it always has to Eddie, but right now it somehow feels different. It’s still there with all those teeth and those opal eyes, and all that darkened mass. But Eddie can feel that something has changed there.

Tentatively, Eddie extends a hand. He lets his hand hang in the air without touching. That sensation in his chest is still there, still tight and still different because it doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to him. He wants to touch the other, to bring his hand over it for reassurance maybe.

The symbiote leans its head forward before Eddie can make that move though, bypassing his hand and using its head to bump his nose. Then it just pulls back and stares Eddie down with that forever smile and, well, does nothing.

Eddie would be lying if he told himself that knot wasn’t back in the pit of his stomach.


	4. Stranger Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, food, and supermarket shenanigans. Tags added for a few more delicate triggers in some spots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter gave me issues, and I ended up rewriting it several times because it didn’t feel right. Sorry for the delay.

It’s strange how they’ve adapted. It’s also strange how they haven’t.

Things have been changing since the both of them have come together. Eddie’s been trying his best to take it all in stride and go with wherever the symbiote takes him in terms of how they live, because it’s much better than the alternative. He knows Drake probably never had a chance at surviving the other symbiote’s symbiosis. Their personalities clashed too much, and while being temporarily absorbed Eddie felt the disconnection there between the two of them.

Eddie likes to think both himself and this lesser, more docile symbiote are better suited for each other than Drake and the other symbiote had been. Riot, wasn’t it? The name sounded more like it belonged to the symbiote than the two of them as one being. Eddie is thankful their relationship isn’t like that, because he’s not sure he could handle it otherwise.

Things have changed since they came together, and the before and after remind Eddie off the differences in the couplings of the two symbiotes to their human hosts. Things get better after the episodicle feeding frenzy, where Eddie counts his blessings and doesn’t question how often the symbiote he’s with takes to forming over him at night.

It’s only while Eddie sleeps, and when Eddie stirs in the night and his lids flicker in the darkness he wakes up remembering glimpses of the symbiote resting against his chest and staring at his face. Eddie doesn’t remember much aside from snapshots, but he remembers feeling comforted by the weight of the other’s jaw against his chest.

He gets a lot more sleep this way, he’s noticed, and has a lot less nightmares. Life is nowhere near perfect and he still has trouble getting to sleep some nights, but it’s better than before. He doesn’t really have it in him to complain on the nights he frightens awake from residual nightmares. He’s always quickly reminded with his symbiote ghosting over the front of his body and spilling over his sides. Like a shield that’s alive and ready to react even when he isn’t aware enough to if danger should come knocking on his door again. It’s a reminder that Eddie isn’t really alone in this.

And he’s less on edge now that he doesn’t feel the ever-constant pang of hunger clawing at him from within. That alone is worth everything he’s had to go through if it meant he’d up at this point. Because maybe they had to reach the bottom first and know what it was like to truly step on each other’s toes, in a sense. Maybe they had to realize through the trials of their first meeting that while they’d been able to bond their bodies as one they hadn’t yet conquered the mental aspects yet. Not enough for true symbosis.

So Eddie tries to go where this new path takes them, one foot at a time. He lets more of the stress slide under a rug that he doesn’t remember buying and keeps it there like an ill-kept secret he won’t even tell himself. He tries to get better, faster. For the both of them. The nightmares he does get, well, he tries to slide those under that rug too and simply lets himself be comforted at the feel of the symbiote against him.

Eddie’s never been the best at taking care of himself as an individual. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him that. He’s fucking awful at it. But he tries to for the sake of keeping the both of them well. He tries even harder now that he knows the symbiote is trying too.

Slowly, Eddie recovers from the long stretch of time he’d spent half in a coma under the other’s heavy influence. He sleeps more soundly now even though he’s more prone to having nightmares, and after a good month of the monotony of human life Eddie starts to feel more like himself again.

It’s strange though, because Eddie knows better than to think that after all that drama his brain would snap back to being oblivious as quickly as it has, all things considered. And how it’s not reminding him every time he closes his eyes that he knows very intimately what human organs feel like on the back of his tongue, or how strange it is to feel the pulse of life die out in them right before he swallows. Eddie finds himself trying to remember those moments sometimes despite his inner struggles just to see if he can, finding that most times they drift away before his consciousness can reach them. He suspects in some way the symbiote is responsible for that, though he doesn’t understand how or why.

Eddie hasn’t asked about it yet, but he knows he needs to eventually. Maybe he’s too embarrassed at how much the ordeal had affected him, or maybe it’s because he doesn’t want those memories to come rushing back if he’s going to be the one responsible for breaking the dam.  Whatever the reason, it’s still tender in his mind and he’s not quite ready to talk about it with his partner in crime yet.

 

Speaking of, it’s been uncharacteristically silent as of late. While Eddie can recall the times he’s seen the other in those brief moments after a nightmare, there’s a noticeable lack in presence of the other that has Eddie feeling suspiciously empty. Eddie can feel the symbiote when it moves and stretches, but it still hasn’t done much of anything since Eddie’s gotten better. The words aren’t there in his head like they used to be. It makes him feel awful sometimes, like there’s an ache in his chest, but it feels farther away than he knows it should.

Eddie wonders if the symbiote feels bad too during these times, feels what _he_ does only half as much and more distorted. Is it being forced to feel what he is, second-hand? Eddie knows the feeling, knows what it’s like to not be able to control what goes on and having to go along for the ride without anything to hold on to. He’s come to know it well.

He imagines it might be a different experience for the symbiote, however, who isn’t accustomed to knowing what it’s like to _feel_. Not without experiencing emotions like humans do.

So, is it possible then, that these creatures can _learn_ to experience them through their hosts? Is this weird sensation Eddie sometimes feels from far away coming from the symbiote, and not himself? Has the symbiote been learning all this time at the same rate Eddie has while they’re connected? Has it been this way from the start of their symbiosis, and Eddie just didn’t notice from the sheer shock of it all? The questions that rise up in his mind make his head hurt when he tries to put it all together.

The symbiote remains rather quiet inside despite his inner turmoil when he thinks about it, more so than Eddie is comfortable with after what’s happened. And this lack in communication is probably the worst thing that’s happened in the aftermath of their struggle for control.

They only talk about the usual things these days, all the while with the symbiote seemingly trying its hardest to find reasons to keep its body hidden beneath Eddie’s skin.

They talk about whatever weird medical drama is on TV when Eddie decides to take a break from his work. The symbiote will wonder openly why the human body seems so shoddily built in every single one of them, and Eddie never could protest the thought because he’s kind of thought the same thing. Before in this situation, when Eddie sat on the couch to relax, he could usually count on feeling the other pulling from inside his skin and sliding over his arms or shoulders to get a better look at the TV. Lately though, Eddie’s skin feels colder with the absence.

They talk about Eddie not forgetting to brush his teeth after his meals and remembering to shower before bed even when he hardly does anything to warrant it. Eddie’s been in the better habit of keeping his teeth clean, but he doesn’t really understand the concern for his body on the days he’s shut up in the apartment doing mostly nothing. He doesn’t argue though. In fact, sometimes he finds it endearing that there’s another being on this Earth that even cares enough to give a shit.   

They talk about things when Eddie least expects it, even when Eddie doesn’t quite know how to answer some of the questions well. What they don’t talk about enough though, is food.

In between meals and at the start and end of each day Eddie tries to initiate the conversation it used to enjoy by asking if there’s anything the other wants to eat. The space inside his head that’s normally filled with symbiote chatter grows the most silent in those times, hesitant even to answer with a quietness that feels out of place in its wake. Eddie feels it like a wave of uncertainty washing over, but again distant in nature.

For the most part Eddie tries not to think into it too much, remembering full well what too much thinking can lead to. He knows it never ends well when he’s the one doing all the thinking. There’s a big problem though when they’re hungry- the both of them- and Eddie doesn’t hear even a whisper about it.

He doesn’t want to blame himself. But he does. He wonders if his recent decisions have somehow ruined their ‘good-terms’ relationship.

You see, there’s a siren that goes off somewhere in Eddie’s brain when he knows he’s about to make a stupid decision. Kind of like his body’s way of trying to steer him in a better direction in life, from a better perspective that maybe he’s learned his lesson from past mistakes. He’s always had those warning alarms like he assumes most everyone with a decent conscious has.

 _Unfortunately_ , he’s remained mostly deaf to it.  Throwback to how his stupid thinking had gotten himself knee deep in some shit he’d rather forget, but will always remember. He’s been dubbed more degrading terms than he can count on both hands just in the time frame of him relocating to San Francisco. And boy had that caused him a dilemma.

Fast-forward to when Eddie had made the decision to give the symbiote more of the control. As per usual it hadn’t been the best idea, and in the end he’d paid for it mostly with his sanity. Eddie’s not the best at calling the shots when it comes to right or wrong in those little gray areas.

He’d felt more than anger at people before when things got hairy, whether he’d been in the right or not. And he’d done some things out of spite and in retaliation he’s not too proud of. But funny enough though, he doesn’t consider himself resentful at the present with his symbiote. Even after the whole cannibalism carnival ride. Or at least, he doesn’t anymore. And that part is strange to him.

He might feel the anger bubble to the surface sometimes, when the chills start crawling along his skin and he wakes up in a cold sweat at night. After things had gone too far and he’d lost control it had been hard to pull the reigns back in. He’d found himself fighting to forget that it was indeed, himself that made that call in the first place.

He wants to force the blame elsewhere in those moments of weakness, when the nightmares hit and he wakes up feeling like he somehow ate a brick and it’s nothing but heavy and off-putting weighing heavily in his stomach. And then he gets to freak out when the worst of it hits his senses and he starts panicking that there’s actually someone’s head inside his stomach and his body is rejecting it. He’ll worry himself into thinking that his stomach will actually push it back up into a throat that’s much smaller than his symbiote’s and he’ll be forced to choke on human remains he didn’t even swallow.

He’ll worry that the tightness at the back of his throat isn’t just his tongue being an overreacting dick and curling into a knot and that he’s choking on something much worse than his own hallucinations. Then, he worries himself enough that he ends up throwing up anyway despite trying his best not to. The symbiote always lets him go beforehand without signal, and Eddie always claws at his skin and tries desperately to clear his throat.

It’s an awful feeling of being completely defenseless and alone. Eddie can’t control it anymore than he can control his bad decision making skills.

It only and always results in a mess of vomit over the couch and floor, all without any notes of human remains. Just a mess of bile, stomach acid, and half digested food splayed out over the furniture. Eddie never even tries to make it to the bathroom when it happens, doesn’t really see the point. He gets too into the moment of trying to prevent his inevitable death that not making a mess just seems trivial in comparison. The clean up is always a bitch though.

He does note in the time he spends afterward while he’s sitting and catching his breath that something else tingles at the edge of his senses. He never remembers what that is, but it calms him enough.

Even still, even with the nightmares and the panic attacks he sometimes wakes up in, Eddie feels that hatred simmer down and snuff out as soon as it’s over and he’s quiet and calm enough to register that he isn’t really alone. That there’s a reason he goes through this and it isn’t all necessarily bad.

He’ll never stop making stupid choices, and he’ll probably always mess up even the best of what life gives him. But now, sitting at his kitchen table at two in the morning with his work spread out in a mess around him, he can honestly say he’s content with what he’s got. And that’s enough to keep going, to keep believing he’s still got at least one thing to offer.

Eddie isn’t dead yet. He’s still got himself. And he’s got _‘Venom’_ , even if that means he’s got to get used to some of those more macabre themes he can’t really avoid when it comes with the territory.  He’ll get used to it. He’ll adapt. He’d rather go through it than avoid it now, because, honestly? Eddie doesn’t know if he’ll remember how to function like a normal human being now if it means he has to be alone. He’s ruined and he knows it, but in some weird, really messed up way it’s worth it.

 

Eddie reminds himself of that while he stands in front of his bathroom mirror after a particularly bad night. He’s already brushed the remaining bits of vomit off his tongue, and he really shouldn’t feel anything but tired after making himself so sick. His stomach feels sore and his throats feels raw, but he can’t help that he’s standing here now with his toothbrush still in his hand and already thinking about what he’s going to have for breakfast. Having to eat for two really has changed how he views food.

But Eddie doesn’t want to continue with this weird tension between them. His stomach growls, cramping hard enough that Eddie hunches over the sink to ride it out. It’s been nearly a day since he’s eaten last, out of sheer rebellion against this silent treatment. Still, nothing about hunger or food. Eddie very nearly regrets it when another cramp has him dry heaving into the sink. He’s got nothing left but meager amounts of stomach acid and it burns his throat as it comes up.

Still, he waits, sweat rolling down his temple from the exhaustion. He’s looking into the mirror, hoping to see a spark of black seep into his veins and crawl over his face to greet his reflection. It’s been far too quiet since the symbiote’s gone off the belly-aching deep end and Eddie wants to know why. But it’s still quiet in his head in regard to hunger and Eddie doesn’t feel anything other than the raw hunger in his belly to remind him the symbiote is still there. He’s beginning to feel desperate. He doesn’t feel too bad off aside from the painful hunger now, which means the symbiote hasn’t done much more than a nibble of his organs. It just doesn’t feel _right_.

Eddie nearly slams his toothbrush on the counter by the spigot once he’s certain his stomach has stopped quivering. He stares directly into his own eyes through the mirror. “You just gonna’ sit in there sulking until this body grows old and dies? You gonna’ let me starve the both of us and not say anything about it? Am I supposed to know when you’re hungry?”

**“We feel hungry. We’re in pain because of it.”**

“I know _that_. That’s not what I meant. What do you _want_ to eat? You used to have no problem telling me that at least.”

**“We no longer have preferences as long as we eat. We have to eat to survive, and that is all.”**

Bullshit. This is all bullshit and Eddie really has made his body feel like shit over the last 24 hours with the panic attack from last night and the lack of food. Here he was trying to be a smart ass and he feels like he’s bearing the brunt of it instead.

Eddie has to grip the sides of the counter to keep his voice steady, feeling another cramp clench his throat tight. “That’s crap and you know it.” He struggles to get the words out without heaving again.

There’s still no sign of the symbiote reaching out, still no sign in his reflection, but Eddie can at least feel a little pride in the fact that it’s making effort to talk about this. Well, sort of. He’s got to eat something though, so he can stop dry heaving on nothing.

“Look, man. I’m not a fan of having brains for breakfast, but I know you like chocolate. How about something for me, and a nice, thick chocolate shake for you? Sound good enough?”

There’s more of a pause after that, and Eddie would have felt more frustrated had he not felt a twinge inside his chest. The symbiote moves inside him, almost a happy fidget at his suggestion. **“Yes, and eggs. Eddie likes eggs.”**

Eddie watches his own expression change in the mirror. “Uh…”

 And then, _then_ Eddie feels the familiar pulling from his symbiote. It’s a rather small gesture, one that creeps in tiny black tendrils up the side of his neck to prod at the back of his skull. **“In your head, Eddie. Know everything about you.”**

“Oh…right.”

Eggs actually do sound really good, maybe with some sausage on the side. And loaded with syrup on both because who is there to judge him and tell him how to live his life? Certainly no one important, and he’s certain his symbiote won’t have much complaints on the matter as long as that chocolate shake isn’t forgotten.

Eddie brushes his teeth one last time to get the taste of bile out, and makes his way into the kitchen. Once he’s done with making breakfast, Eddie enjoys three eggs over easy with onions and damn near an entire plate of breakfast sausage, all smothered in butter flavored syrup. He takes a generous mouthful of the shake he’s prepared and swallows it down between each bite. In a sense, they eat together. And it’s pleasant. The food sits well with Eddie and the symbiote flutters in satisfaction at the amount of chocolate chips Eddie’s crushed inside the shake. It feels much better than before and both the chocolate fix and the food seem to lift both their spirits.

Yeah, things have definitely changed, but Eddie likes to think they’re at least getting better at this. Both of them are still trying to coexist in this one body they’ve got, with Eddie trying desperately to understand how to communicate without relying on his emotions to get the point across, and the symbiote not knowing how to communicate on Eddie’s level. It’s a different way to live, for sure. Eddie would have never thought he’d be sharing the body he was born with like this. He never would have thought his way of thinking would change to adapt to the fact that what makes him _Eddie_ isn’t anything anyone can see or hear, but something else entirely. In a way Eddie is much like the symbiote in the sense that he needs this body too, to survive. He’s never been much of a spiritual guy, but he knows it must fall under that category. 

They sleep on the couch later as they normally do these days with the television on. It’s partly because Eddie likes the background noise, but mostly because it gives the symbiote something to do while he sleeps. When Eddie wakes up the television is never on, and the symbiote is always quietly sat inside him. They fall into a more stable calm in the days to come, and Eddie continues his slow coaxing into more conversations about food. It goes well for the most part.

Eddie can remember the beginning of their strange relationship with food and how awkward it was putting everything he could in his mouth and trying to eat it in hopes it would taste good. His taste buds have changed a bit to accommodate the new presence inside him, but he still enjoys the foods he used to. Sometimes they taste even better now. He’s even got some new favorites, like certain types of seafood. He knows the symbiote prefers the raw kind of any dish, but seafood is one category they can both agree on now. Tuna, even raw, has become one of Eddie’s favorites.

 

Days later in the supermarket, Eddie is trying to stock up the kitchen with his newly attained funds when the symbiote makes its first real attempt at an appearance. Eddie’s got on a thick washed out jean jacket, more than enough to hide the fact that he’s got a curious symbiote snaking down him arm.

Eddie’s got a tomato in one hand and a bag of grapes in the other. It’s more for himself in an attempt to keep his human body healthy than for taste, because he’s more of a meat guy himself. But, the symbiote seems curious about these weird fleshy bulbs.

**“Some of these foods look strange.”**

Eddie actually laughs at that, earning him a few stares from the couple checking for ripeness in the tomatoes beside him. “Well, yeah, I guess so. You’re not used to this kind of stuff.” He reminds himself that eventually he’s going to have to save up for some kind of Bluetooth device when they’re out in public like this. He tries to lower his voice a bit, even after the couple walks away. “It’s all a matter of personal taste. I’m sure I’d feel the same way about whatever weird things grow on your planet, too.”

A second later Eddie feels his arm pulling towards his face, the one with the tomato, and instantly tries to fight it. “Don’t. We can’t just eat whatever we want inside the store. You have to pay for it first. That’s how Earth works.”

**“…Fine. Eat one of the small ones, then. No one will notice.”**

Eddie rolls his eyes when his arm lowers to put the tomato back, because that now empty hand is already digging into the bag of grapes he’s got in his other hand. Well, at least it’s not like the experience at the diner with Anne and Dan.

“Fair enough, but only one.” And when he lets one of the grapes into his mouth and chews it, he knows instantly it’s not going to be on the menu any time soon.

**“Tastes empty. Put it back.”**

“Right. We don’t like grapes then. But we need a vegetable at least to keep our diet balanced or this body is going to have some issues. And no, we’re not eating a tomato here. I’ll buy it and we can try it later.”

Eddie thinks that’s the end of it after he puts one in a bag and places it in his basket, especially when he remains in full control of his legs as he walks away from the medley of fruits and vegetables. He adds a few more things to his overstuffed basket, like seafood and enough chocolate to last them a few days, before making his way to the front to check out. It isn’t until they pass the produce section again that his free hand snaps behind him to grab something from one of the stands that he remembers he’s not fully in control. He stops, looking down at the small carton of cherry tomatoes he’s now holding.

**“Look Eddie, small tomatoes. Eat one.”**

Eddie sighs, more out of frustration, because his arm is already losing its strength from the mound of food he’s got stuffed in the small basket he’s carrying after refusing to get a cart, and he really doesn’t want to have to go through this again. Either he’s led himself right into this situation because he really is an idiot or his symbiote just really knows how to play the game. Maybe later Eddie will have to remind said symbiote that sarcasm is something Eddie is top of his class in.

“ _One_ , then we’re out of here.”

He has to place his cart on the floor to open the plastic box, which is a great relief for the muscles in his arm. And when he does and the box is open the symbiote crawls a bit of itself into the palm of his hand to scoop up on of the bigger cherry tomatoes. Eddie eats it, with the help of his symbiote bringing it to his mouth and slinking away before he starts chewing on it. This time the reaction is different. Eddie can almost feel it thinking while he chews.

And then: **“This is nice.”**

Another one is brought to his mouth just after he swallows, and before Eddie can protest it’s already in his mouth. He quickly looks around to make sure no one is eyeballing his actions when a third forces its way in too.

“I told you one,” he tries to say through the splatter of tomato juices. “This is not one.”

**“We like these.”**

Eddie swallows the third, stopping his hand from bringing a fourth to his lips. “Ok, we’ll buy these too, just stop eating them here!”

Almost frantically he snaps the lid of the box shut and crams it into his already overstuffed basket, heading straight to one of the emptier lines and trying like hell to steer clear of anymore open food products.

 

Once they’re home and away from prying eyes, while Eddie is munching on the cherry tomatoes, a thought comes to the front of his mind. “Why do you like these anyway? Doesn’t really seem like something you’d like.” He pops a few more into his mouth and enjoys the fresh ‘pop’ they bring. He’s not a big vegetable fan either, but among them all he actually enjoys cherry tomatoes every now and again.

**“Not the taste. The texture.”**

“Texture? They’re pretty much like the grapes you didn’t like, you know.” He swallows, putting a few more into his mouth for emphasis.

**“These are different.”**

“How?”

It’s almost like the snarky little bastard waits before Eddie bites down on a few more. **“Feels like brains.”**

And suddenly Eddie pays a little more attention to how the guts of the tomatoes feel over his tongue, nearly chokes when he swallows because of the new visual he’s got in his head.

He sets the open container, mostly empty, on the coffee table and rests his hands on his knees until he calms the sudden upset in his stomach. “Yeah…thanks for that.”

A pause. The symbiote stirs inside his chest and pokes at his insides in jest. **“I aim to please.”**

They _really_ have to have a talk about sarcasm.


End file.
